Angela Mollard: Dispense with ‘to do’ and adopt a ’do me’ approach

‘Paying yourself first’ is an excellent mantra, so dispense with ‘doing’ and embrace ‘being’.

To anyone else, they’re just a couple of wicker armchairs sitting on my back deck with a small table placed in between. But, to me, they represent so much more.

I bought them six weeks ago with a clear intention of sinking into one each morning with a cup of tea. The light from the east is beautiful, sparkling with new-day promise and, as I’d rationalised, there is no point filling a small garden with flowering gingers, walking irises and a frangipani tentatively adapting to a new home if you don’t occasionally sit still long enough to enjoy them.

It would be a time for me to inhale, meditate and reflect.

So, have I sat in my chairs?

Not once.

As last year slipped away and this new one greets us all, I tried to figure out why I haven’t gifted myself not just the time, but the stillness I so desperately crave.

It’s more than garden-variety busyness which we need to stop citing as a contemporary affliction because it’s as ubiquitous as it is solvable. (To paraphrase a dozen self-help books, basically get better organised or do less).

We all need to soak up the serenity like the Kerrigans in The Castle.

No, what has stopped me doing a Darryl Kerrigan and soaking up the serenity is a severe case of Completion Delusion Syndrome (CDS). In essence, I have every intention of having a rest but not until I’ve finished everything I need to do. The delusion, of course, is that few things in life are ever complete and we never arrive at a moment where everything is just so. It’s impossible to “clear the decks” or “get on top of things” because if you don’t add a task or a problem to a deck someone else will, and there is no “on top of things” because the defining feature of a pile is that it grows.

Apologies if you’ve made one, but New Year’s resolutions are nonsense because they’re the most glaring symptom of Completion Delusion Syndrome. In resolving to lose 10kg, or give up drinking, or go to the gym four times a week, you’re effectively throwing yourself at some idealised tomorrow where you’ll at long last feel happy with yourself. Far better to ask yourself each morning: how can I honour myself and this glorious day?

New Year’s resolutions are the most glaring symptom of Completion Delusion Syndrome. Picture: iStock

As the brilliant author Oliver Burkeman writes in his book, Four Thousand Weeks, there will never be a time when we finally have everything under control or when “the fully optimised person you’ve become can turn, at long last, to the things life is really supposed to be about”.

The trouble with CDS (my invention, incidentally, not a professionally diagnosed condition) is that it infects what are precious days, leaving us unable to relax, focusing on “to-do” lists and projecting on to an imagined future rather than fully seizing the now. Plenty of us are enjoying a break but we’re stripping it of its joy every time we look at emails or worry about a forthcoming challenge, or do the laundry at the expense of reading a book. The fact is we will eventually die with undies needing a wash, a fridge requiring a clean and a bill unpaid. Our lives are not like provisional driver’s licences; we’re not practicing with an aim of achieving the real thing.

This is the real thing. This messy, awkward, imperfect, unfinished day is all we have. As Burkeman says, when he realised that he’d be stuck with tasks and “certain inner disturbances” forever, he was initially indignant but then appreciated the burden that had been lifted. Accepting life will never be “done” or problem-free makes you much more motivated to enjoy the cup of coffee, the laugh with a friend, the feel of water on your skin and to ignore the grumpy toddler or teen.

Treat your home like the castle it is and revel in the serenity. Picture: iStock

To override CDS, we need to physically stop and psychologically detach. We must dispense with the “to do” and adopt a “do me” approach. Hobbies, relaxation and pleasure should not be the prize for a list of tasks completed because, more often than not, we will mismanage our time and miss out on the thing we wanted for ourselves. “Paying yourself first,” is an excellent mantra. If it was your last day alive, it’s the position you’d adopt. Reminding ourselves that our lives are finite is the prompt we need for dispensing with our “doing” and embracing our “being”.

In postponing the things we enjoy, or letting our wonderment be eaten up by worry, we not only sabotage our own contentment but we effectively insult those whose lives were cut short through accident or illness. What might they give for one more fully embraced day?

It’s in that spirit that I am knocking CDS on the head and sucking in lungfuls of this extraordinary gift of a new year. Like Darryl Kerrigan I’m going to treat my home like the castle it is and revel in the serenity. By the time you’ve read this, I’ll have sat on my new chair, sipped tea and marvelled at the sunlight dancing in my garden. Happy New Year to you all.

ANGELA LOVES

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Frisbee

I continue to be amazed by how one round disc can provide so much fun. Free summer entertainment.

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